Nothing But Regret
by MrsEleanorLovett
Summary: At what age are you allowed to look back on your life with nothing but regret? Is thirty-two too young?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Glee isn't mine... :(

The first thing I want to say is that it is my first fic in English, so let me know what you think about it, please!

The fic starts at end of the season 2. You will recognized some parts :P I'd also say it's a love fic about wemma. It's about Emma and, of course, Will's part of Emma's life ;) And M is for something.

Finally, thank **aggie23** very much for the help =D

I will translate as soon as I can.

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><p><strong>Nothing But Regret<strong>

**Chapter 1**

The water kept dropping over her in the shower. Then, it made a whirl and went to a place that Emma didn't care about.

Meanwhile, the vapor began the steam the mirror and little drops began to form in the walls, making the air unbearable wet.

She had been there for long time, more than she used to. She had barely moved in half hour, allowing the water to clean the uncontrollable tears streaming down her cheeks.

Inner sorrow twirled inside her just like water did around her feet. A rainbow of sorrowful thoughts ruled her mind. At what age are you allowed to look back on your life with nothing but regret? Is thirty-two too young?

She thought about her life and, she found she wasn't proud of herself. She had never succeed at anything because she was too busy hiding in her own fears. She hadn't the nerve to face them. Every single day, she had been limited by her obsessive-compulsive disorder. All she could remember was referring to it. She had lost half of her childhood, her adolescence and now her days as young adults were ending. She had spent her time doing absolutely nothing. The problem was she had been too afraid of trying. And still was. How could she lose her life this way?

Just like the same way she had recently lost her husband. She couldn't blame him. He had been right. She had been a disgusting wife. She couldn't even keep the promise she'd made to him. She hadn't been honest about her feelings. She had hidden too many things from him. They seemed insignificant, but when they all came together formed a huge ball that it was impossible to digest. Maybe, the problem was she never should have married him when her feelings weren't clear. Poor Carl, he had suffered without deserving it. She was mean and selfish.

But she couldn't get Will off of her mind. As much she tried, as much she lied to herself, she loved him so much it hurt. And it pang across her heart merciless. Every time she thought about him, she believed nothing could go wrong if he was at her side. Nothing could be better than that. But she had found that it wasn't true at all. What they had couldn't even be called a relationship. They had nothing. When she'd tried to move on and followed another people's advice just thinking about herself, she only got pain and hurt. She broke the heart of the man she loved, just like everything she touched. Because of that, she wouldn't touch anything or anyone ever again.

She moved her arms. Her muscles were stiff because of being still for so all those minutes. Her knife wasn't far. She picked it up and dismounted, with the speed of practice, to keep only the blade. For some minutes she looked at the silver reflection from various angles, bewitched by the magic of light.

She was sitting on the cold marble floor, though she even noticed.

It was time again.

She caressed her thigh thinking where will be this time. It didn't matter while the effect was the same. She stopped torturing herself with her thoughts and sank the sharp edge on her soft skin. Soon, a beautiful red line sprouted and ran to join to the cheerful water drops.

Emma felt pain and welcomed it.

As soon as it came, it disappeared. Then, she repeated her ritual in other spot. She moaned and leaned her head on the bathroom wall. She let her go one more time until it ended. She looked for more and more of that drug, repeating cuts on old scars. She gave blood no time to go when more youthful and eager ran to appear. The previous transparent was becoming scarlet.

Emma started to felt dizzy, but it didn't make her stop.

An insane idea burned in her mind. Will anybody miss her if she stayed in that bathroom forever? More she thought about it, the more lonely she felt. Well, she was a single woman, an adult woman, a woman who had freaked out everyone that could have felt any interest on her. How long will she be laying there until they found her, or missed her, if she died?

The blade had left her legs and it start teasing her forearms, her wrists. It was very easy. She just had to do the move again. A bit of pressure and done. Maybe, a little deeper and everything will be over. Wasn't it great?

The razor stayed there, over her blue vein, just a few centimeters. It was nearest that anything in her life.

Emma had always feared the big decisions. She was very insecure. Maybe, it wasn't her fault. Maybe, it was the circumstances. She'd always rather run away or hide, waiting to the bad things to disappear. The few times she dared to get out to see if it rained, she ended without an umbrella under a violent storm.

She wasn't brave. That's why she never went to see the wolf.

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><p>She turned off the water, although it kept playing on her feet a little longer. She put her bathrobe on. A wet footprint was left on the plush in the floor.<p>

Her eyes were red. She didn't feel good enough to keep standing here, looking at her reflection.

When the door was opened, the vapor ran out of the bathroom.

Now that the shower was closed, and her sobs had faded away, she could only hear the the sound her slippers made with each step she took.

She dried her hair with the towel, although she knew it would only get dry with the hairdryer, but she didn't care.

She put her robe on the chair so that the seat upholstery wouldn´t stain.

Not exposed enough to be a constant reminder, but not hidden enough not to be found at all, Emma kept an old blood stained towel in her bottom drawer. Now it was needed and she stretched it on the mattress. She fell on it. She wanted to stay that way and not move, but she wouldn´t allow herself to. At least not yet.

She pressed one of the cloth corners against her wounds. White quickly stained with red.

The towel was rough from the numerous washed and strong detergents without fabric softener. That was why it was her favorite. Every time she pushed it against her leg, it reminded her about past pain. And that was when she forgot who she was and why she was doing that.

She took another free-blood spot from the harsh fabric and repeated the move again. It scraped. A moan escaped from her half-opened mouth.

Perhaps, she overdid it this time, but she couldn't help it. It made her feel alive for a while.

Finally, the cuts stopped bleeding. She was afraid to stand up, but she did anyway and limped to the bathroom. The vapor was gone. There glazed tile showed a long shower took place moments ago.

She sat on the toilet and pulled the injured leg on the bidet. Slowly, she applied the disinfectant on each cuts, with the care of a person as she was. This time, the gauze was soft, but stung slightly.

When she was done, she looked at her work. She wasn't exactly proud. Instead, she was ashamed of doing that kind of things, feeling so unloved that she had to hurt herself to check she was still alive.

But it didn't work. She felt worse than before. All she wanted was to close her eyes and cry. So she did. There was nobody here to judge her. She was alone. Carl was gone.

She dressed with her underwear and a long nightgown that didn't show her legs.

She returned to the bathroom for the last time, her arms full of cleaning products.

With a bucket of water and bleach, gloves covering her hands and a scourer, she started cleaning. There she was one more time, her weaknesses and her fears controlling her again. And she didn't fight. Even when she could faint, she kept rubbing the floor, the walls, the bathtub... Because she couldn't help it no matter how bad she felt.

The city had been sleeping for a few hours when she collapsed on her bed. Her closed eyes hurt and burnt for all the tears. They seemed enough to not cry for a year, but she knew that she will do it in less than twelve hours. And nobody will be there to comfort her.

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><p><strong>NA:** Thanks for reading ^^


	2. Chapter 2

_Second chapter. There you go! I took me a little bit because I'm pretty busy at school... Sorry. _

_Thank aggie for the help again.  
><em>

_Enjoy!  
><em>

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

He caught her that morning. She hadn't been able to handle the little crisis taking place when she was at school, even when she had learned how to pretend. If someone asked about it, nothing existed. But that day, she just wasn't in the mood.

She found herself in the teachers' lounge when her office was absolutely gleamed. She had cleaned the same spots so many times that she was scared the furniture would disappear under the scrubbing.

Emma rubbed restless over and over again. She didn't bother to move an inch left or right. The noise of the electric toothbrush dulled her. It was humdrum, as she liked. It reminded her to Carl ... with all the machines always bright and ready to be used. She had loved to browse this and that. He had showed her the day he asked her out.

He'd always been so kind with her... And she had broken his heart. Maybe they rushed into things. That was probably one of It was biggest flaws. She wasn't able to take any relationship calm. She seemed rather desperate.

But he had gone. And she missed him. They had barely been apart the previous mouths and now there was a huge crack amid them which any of them would try to jump fearing they would fall.

"Are you ok?"

"Yep" she answered like a robotically, his voice didn´t even startle her "I will be when this counter is properly clean." Saying things like that made her realize how crazy she seemed. She was the only one who cared about the dirtiness in a public high school.

"I heard that OCD tents to be worse when the person is under great stress."

She turned her cleaning tool off, glad because her hair hided her face from him. Not even thinking, she just said the first thing that was in her mind. "Carl is gone."

He was the one who started the conversation and only because of that, she continued it. She wouldn't had had the strength to do it for herself.

The cloth of her skirt touched her wounds, calling for her attention a reminder of her long shower the day before. So she spoke while her tears streamed down her cheeks, mocking her. Because that was what they were doing; laughing at her, for exposing her weakness to him. She was like an open book which Will could read at any time.

She wished to go home to attack her sane leg. The loneliness of her condo made her feel safe and terrified at the same time.

But it was late because she'd already told him. Now he knew that her marriage was over, she was still a virgin and all her progresses weren't what she thought they were. There wasn't any way to go back in time to avoid anyone to fall in her wretchedness spiral.

"I'm so tired." She was more tired than she was able to admit.

Oh, he really looked as her prince charming. He was so adorable trying to comfort her that she remembered why she had feeling for him.

That grape in his hand was much more than that to Emma; it was a symbol of friendship. It was a promise to be at her side, supporting her. Even if those words were just lies, they helped her feel a little better, less alone.

She couldn't help a smile of thanks, her first real smile in quite some time.

Hearing from his own lips he was her friend sounded much better than it did on Emma's mind. She retained his voice in a corner of her mind for the next time she needed to remind it.

That night, in the shower, the water barely mixed with her blood. She didn't need too much pain to drown her sorrows. Not at all her problems had been solved, but that night, she treated herself letting her eyes rest for a while.

Next morning, covering the signs of weeping wouldn't be as hard as usual.

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><p>The pill dropped into her mouth and then, she took a drink of water. It was hard at first, but now, it was a normal thing in her breakfast. She didn't think about it anymore, just did it. She always thought chewing over was one of her most awful fault. Her shower knew the consequences.<p>

Besides, she felt better about her OCD. Everything around her was as clean as always. _Everything_. But the point was that she didn't have the need to check. She didn't have to go back home twice to make sure she didn't let the faucet open, the keys on the lock or the toothbrush in the wrong place. Emma never would do that kind of things anyway.

And all because Will. He had inspired her. Their friendship was what she needed to finally gather the courage and get an appointment to see a real therapist. It wasn't easy, or nice. Furthermore, her night shower after her first session had been one of the worst. She had fainted on her bed and waked up in the morning with the wet sheets. The thought of sleeping in her own blood made her had a horrible anxiety attack. Then, her alarm clock rang and she cleaned and cleaned.

The experience proofed she needed to accept that maybe she needed medication. So she started, not very confident. But it was actually helping her.

Thank goodness everything was rebuilding up. She was beginning to get used to being a single woman. She had never been fully and completely in love with Carl, but she loved him and missed him now. Her friendship with Will grew stronger as before, and she was closer to find the ways to deal with her disease. She had no reason to continue secretly bleeding. She let her legs healed and she didn't look them more until the day they would be open again.

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><p>When she heard it, she knew it was a fact. Will was born to shine on stage. Just by seeing him, his talent was evident. And Emma had always watched him too much considering he was a married man. Seeing him perform made her breath clinch and uneven.<p>

Due to that, she told him to leave. She looked for all the possible argues. Neither of them will forgive themselves for wasting the opportunity without trying. She helped him pack and smiled. She lied when she said she wanted him to leave, when the truth was all she wanted was to grasp his shirt and beg him to come home with her so he could embrace her in the darkness because the night still frightened her. Instead, she just kissed his cheek softly, trying to print his scent and his touch in her mind forever.

She didn't mean it when she told him not to come back. In fact, she couldn't wait to be with him even when he wasn´t gone yet. As soon she turned her back to him, she broken into a thousand pieces and her mask of joy and optimism crashed on the floor with her self-esteem. Sometimes, she felt she was just appearances.

But he was happy and it should be enough for her. She would be selfish if she wasn´t.

Of course, Emma wasn't perfect.

Once again she told herself that she couldn't continue like this. She had to do something else, find something but the cuts. They were too ephemeral.

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><p><em>NA: Thanks for the reviews ^^_


	3. Chapter 3

I'm sorry it take so long. I was very busy with school, but it's Christmas holiday now!  
>Thanks for reading and comment, and thank to aggie for the help :D<p>

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Will had gone three days ago. The students had stopped going to class three days ago thus the school looked all empty now. And Emma had stopped eating three days ago.

Will had asked her to drive him to the airport and she had answered that she was sorry, but it was impossible.

She couldn't say goodbye to him again or see him take that plane to his new and fantastic life far away from her. It overwhelmed her. She couldn´t possibly have disguised her sorrow one more time.

That's why he had to take a taxi. One more folder of regrets in a full drawer that she wasn't able to close.

Will was flying when she toke her antidepressants without even bothering to follow her psychiatrist prescription. Emma didn't need a low dose, she needed a higher one. A stranger couldn't know better than herself how she felt.

Emma's stomach didn't allow her to eat anything before she went to work.

She hadn't planned this, but soon, it became a challenge. How long would her body resist? She had read a human is able to survive about seven days without eating, but barely seventy-two hours without drinking any water. Would it be true? So that´s how big amounts of water deceived her stomach in lack of anything solid. At the third day, she felt terrible exhausted, weak and very alive.

Without food, her brain didn't work right and she turned into an inefficient worker. She couldn't concentrate at work. She was making mistakes all the time. She didn't even know where her nose was. At least, she'd learnt how not to faint. Nobody paid attention to her. She didn't pay attention to anyone. She was invisible.

She only was observed once. That happened when she had closed her eyes and her hands had been supporting her head because of her blurred vision. Suddenly, her elbow had slipped and she had lost her balance for a second. However she had quickly recovered, Sue Sylvester had watched her though the crystal wall although she had gone before Emma could ask her if she wanted something.

Sleeping was impossible for Emma that night. The urgent need of her body for eat something was getting revenge.

Hours awake meant a lot of thoughts rumbling in her head. It was like swimming underwater in a sea of desolation. Her oxygen tank was ending and the people that could give her a little more had gone to other place. And now, she was drowning.

Emma put her sheets away. They were making her uncomfortable with their embrace. She walked up and down in her bedroom and looked though the window to the deserted street below her.

The sky was dark and the bulbs lighted. There wasn't a single star because each of them had escaped from that awful world. That was the best thing to do.

A sad moon looked ashamed and tired. Also lonely, because her friends had gone. She was alone.

Just like Emma.

Her bare feet lightly touched the wood floor. She seemed like a cat hiding in the shadows of the night.

The fluorescent in the kitchen's ceiling hurt her eyes. She hadn't been there in the last three days.

She opened the larder, finding a packet of chocolates. Carl's favorites. She had bought them for when he comes to visit her. Emma hadn't eaten them since he left. Since her ex-husband left. That was another taboo word in her vocabulary.

Some chocolates dropped in the counter when she opened the package.

_With almond crème,_ said the wrapper. It had started being hot a few days ago, so the chocolate should be melting. So she opened a corner just to check.

Indeed, it was. It stuck the wrapper and Emma's fingers.

She wasn't thinking when she sucked the melted candy off her skin. Then, Emma lost control. Before she could even notice, empty wrappers were spread all over the counter.

"No!" she screamed getting as far from they as she could, like them would hurt her.

Her hands were so dirty, and so was the table. Even if she couldn't see it, she was certain her mouth was an awful mess too.

She threw all the wrappers and closed the bin liner so this way she couldn't see what was inside. She cleaned as frantically. She took a shower, roughly.

Later, she was wearing Will's vest over her clean nightdress. She hadn't put it in the laundry yet because she didn't want to it to lose his aroma or it wouldn't be so special.

Emma reminded him wearing it. Now, she didn't know if she would see him again. She had asked him not being a stranger, but she hadn't had any call from him.

In the kitchen's floor still was the chocolate for a husband that would never come back. Hiding behind a black plastic was the proof of her weakness.

The drowsiness she got on the bathroom had lost its effect. Emma started trembling again. She was failing one more time. She was weak and the pressure won the battle as always. She needed to calm down, to come back to her relaxing state from two weeks ago.

In her shacking hand dropped three antidepressants. Seconds later, they all were travelling down to her stomach.

Her weight fell on her forearms against the counter. Her head hurt. She needed to sleep but she wasn't able to do it at the same time. It was too frustrating. Emma let herself fall. The little pills were all over the floor by her side.

She hid her face on her hands, feeling herself covered with cold sweat. The vest itched. Even the wool made fun of her. She took it off and put it near of her feet because she couldn't handle seeing it further.

There she was, surrounded with the things that made her a broken porcelain doll –an old cloth of the man she loved, the antidepressants to control her pathetic mental illness, chocolate memories of a husband she couldn´t correspond.

"Stop it!"

Emma couldn't stand it anymore. She had to go away from it and she knew how to do it.

She reached a little knife for the fruit and raised her nightdress until her waist. She had never done it out of the bath or with a razor different but she didn't care about stupid things like that.

When the blade sank easily on her soft skin, she panted. Her ears were buzzing and she shuddered with the pleasant sensation. She looked for other scar and repeated the same movement.

In that moment, she was glad not to have to hide the marks on her body from any man.

Her head fell against the cupboard behind her. She felt relaxed now. Emma was starting to forget about the events of the night.

The blood stained her whole leg, sliding to the floor and playing to fill the cracks. Her hand enjoyed touching them lightly and, then, getting her cheerful nightdress dirty.

The vision terrified her a little bit, but her exhausted brain understood it was because of the lack of water. Crimson shone with its entire splendor that night.

She hit her own leg and moved it. It was asleep and the sore didn't feel as good as before. When it happened, she used to stop and get out of the shower.

Shy beams of light were starting to filtered, frightened of say good morning at someone that just wanted to sleep until everything was over. Not much later, her alarm would ring and the sound wouldn't affect her.

She stretched her sane leg. When she put a hand over her, a red mark appeared.

"Will..." she moaned with pain while she pushed the knife deeper.

She wished he was there with her. She didn't mind he would get mad or, maybe, shouted at her. She needed somebody who helps her to get out of that labyrinth where she was lost. But Will had already forgotten her...

The knife dropped from her hands. She didn't have strength to hold it right. Her vision, already fuzzy, didn't allow her see properly anymore. She barely felt her body slip slowly to a side and her head hit the cold floor.

A vibration and a muffle melody on her purse told about a new unanswered call.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The shadows were dancing slowly on the floor, by her side. They could be noticed only if one was looking carefully and Emma was there, just looking, for hours. Blinking and breathing. Breathing and blinking. Nothing disturbed her. There was still a beam of light from a lamp nobody had switched off.

A soft sound came from the living room. It took her some minutes to hear it, but she was unperturbed. She hardly knew what was happening around her.

Emma closed her eyes and fell asleep again. Or that is what she thought that had happened when she opened her eyes hours later and the room was darker. The exact same sound than hours ago woke her up.

Her legs wobbled when she tried to stand up. Her muscles hurt. She reached the edge of the counter and held it tight to keep herself straight.

She wasn't even strong to stand on her own two feet.

Step by step, carefully and without looking back, she went out the messy kitchen. The voice from the living room became clearer and she was more confident to keep her balance.

"... then. I hope you call me back... I just want to talk to you... Well... Bye, Emma" he hesitated and then the call was ended.

The light of the phone told her she had a few lost calls.

She struggled with the impulse of phoning him right then just to hear his wonderful voice again. Anyway, her furry mouth wouldn´t allow her say a word.

Her body glorified when the warm body run across it. It was amazing to discover how good she felt when the soap washed her skin. It cleaned her body off things she didn´t dare to mention.

The nightgown, the tempting chocolates, the dropping pills and an amount of gauzes ended in the litter, far away from her.

Lying in the couch, she listened to the messages on her phone. Her eyes were closed; she needed to rest them.

She had missed a school day without giving Figgins a call. He had drawn her attention but nothing more. The last thing she needed was failing in the only thing she knew she was good at.

But Will had called her too. The world wasn't that dark.

Actually, he didn't say many things. He had called her to the cellphone. He was tired too. She could tell it just listening him. He hadn't stopped rehearsing since he arrived, but he was taking care of his voice for the openning. If he couldn't sing, he was lost. And he missed her. He didn't put it exactly like that, but she could tell he missed her despite the arching of her body.

She never heard the end of his message because she had curled up on the couch and fallen asleep. The following morning, her body would complain on the best way: with pain.

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><p>Unlike the previous day, Emma did wake up with the raucous sound of the alarm clock in the morning. A moan escaped from her lips when she got up. Sleeping on a couch was very uncomfortable, and she wasn't used to.<p>

She had another shower, got dressed and went out. She hardly knew what she was doing, but she had done those things enough times to work as a robot. Being an obsessive-compulsive woman had, at least, an advantage. She didn't have anything for breakfast. The excuse was she had not time to. That was right. Other stuff took her more time than usually. Actually, she didn't care about it that much.

"My Aunt Patty died for a heart attack yesterday. She was a very important woman in my life" Emma didn't know she could lie that good. The best thing was her boss believed every word escaping her mouth.

So nobody questioned about her mood. Nobody except...

Two glasses with two straws were put on the table where Emma and Mrs. Hudson were talking about professional issues during lunchtime.

"Sue Sylvester's new shake. Congratulations! Ladies, you´ve been chosen as guinea pigs. If one of you both faint before cross that door...", she pointed to the corridor, "... I´ll add more sugar".

"Thanks, Sue, but today don´t have the stomach to try your exotic recipes", Emma refused the pinky and thick drink of the disposable glass.

"I didn't ask you about your private life, Eliot, did I? I just told you to drink the shake", she replied coldly.

Somehow, Sue convinced her. Of course, it was disgusting.

"What the hell is that?"

"You don't want to know", she assured while disappearing as she had come.

Every day, Emma was surer that that woman had a mental illness.

The truth was that she didn't feel as tired as she usually did.

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><p>She was listening to the beep while waiting.<p>

"Emma!" she started on her own couch, in the silence of her house.

"Will"

His excited voice was happy to hear her. It didn't take him long to scold his friend for being a stranger for so long, but she apologized saying she had been quite busy. Everything should be over and ready for the next year in just one more day. If she left something undone, it would be a problem in two months. She knew what she was talking about.

"Ok, I understand. It was so hard to finish a week before... I thought I was going crazy!"

She discovered herself enjoying a trivial conversation with him without feeling it was wrong until they reached _the_ issue.

"The show was postponed" he explained "So, tonight is our big night. I'm so excited, Emma! Thanks goodness you called. Honestly, I wouldn't be able to stand being here one more second, and I wouldn't feel like going out with my mates. They´d make me more nervous"

As she had learned, she calmed him down and gave him the best advises she could. Emma told herself she really wanted to that to be great for him, but she was lying.

She put the hem of the skirt up to find the little cuts. They began to be caressed softly while she kept talking. Each time, caress became harder and rougher. Her half mind work in the conversation and the other half rested. Then, a tiny little moan escaped from her mouth.

"Emma, are you ok?"

"Yes! Of course! I'm great, Will... Great! It's not like I'm hurt... or anything. Just a bruise. I crashed and I have a bruise now. It's nothing, really..." she stammered until Will's laugh made her stop and be quiet. She feared he might have discovered she was lying cheekily. Though, it was impossible for him to know anything. He couldn't see her, he was too far. For once, she was happy with the distance.

They spoke barely some more time. A lifeless Emma went to bed and remained there for hours until she finally fell asleep.

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><p>Finally the last day of the school year arrived. Emma couldn´t wait to lock her office and go home. But she had to stay a bit more.<p>

She looked impatient through the crystal walls of her office. Everything was neatly organized just as she liked. She used to be pleased with her summer cleaning, but not this time.

"I told you I'm not drinking your silly multicolored baby food, Sue! For the last time, go and bother someone else, can´t you see I´m busy?"

The coach ignored her complains. A packet of portable glasses with their respective covers was the end-year present for Emma, who refused them.

"Come on! They are an excellent mixture of vitamins, protein and minerals. Fantastic for blood lose"

Emma froze with those words. The ring blinder in her hands dropped and the papers inside fall all over the floor. Her eyes were staring the disaster while her mouth was talking.

"Go, Sue. I don't know what you want, but stop sticking your nose into other people's life"

"I have no idea you get the menopause so young, Donna", she moved away the paper near her feet before going without one more word and leaving all the child experiments on the table. She had won Emma's displeasure again.

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><p>Four hours later the silver door was being closed by the old key. She checked it three times and then she came back to check again. Finally, she was ready to go home.<p>

It was a really hot day. The sun itched and she was starting to sweat on her way to her car. When she got in, she would put the windows down. The vehicle didn't have air-conditioning and she couldn't afford a new one. Her lifestyle was expensive already.

"Emma!", she found the key in her purse easily. "Emma!" This time, she looked back at the man who was calling her. Her eyes should be cheating her, because it couldn't be possible.

"Will?"

The man was walking toward her, using his hand as a peak to cover the sun; he was smiling.

For second time that day, she froze. Her mind wasn't able to join the pieces of the puzzle in front of her. Will was in New York, succeeding, living his dream, being who he had born to be, and not there, in the middle of a teacher's parking lot of a public school in Lima, Ohio; it was her and her only stepping there, alone, divorced, trying to have her OCD under control by no-strong-enough antidepressants, injuring herself and not allowing herself to eat well. A forgotten rag in nobody's kitchen worth more than her. Right?

While she thought about all those things, Will had arrived by her side, shining under the sunlight.

"I thought you´ve already gone", he told her, wanting to hold her but not doing that. His face expected to her to say how happy she was to see him, or why he had returned so soon. Instead, she said:

"Actually, I was going. I'm not feeling very well; I shouldn't have come today...", she murmured moving back. Her hand found the knob. "My head is killing me. It's n-nice to see you... See you around", the words were awkward. Whether she had stopped just one second to look at Will and herself there, she would notice her odd behavior.

And he wasn't as silly as not realized.

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><p>She didn't hear the knocks on the door just as she didn't notice she left it open, allowing anyone interested to come in.<p>

Emma rested her head against the yellow tile of the kitchen. Her legs hang by the counter and her arms hung lifeless by her sides. Her semi-opened eyes were the only proof she didn't have lost her consciousness yet. Everything was very dirty again, but she wasn't able to notice it.

Unknowing steps found their way to her.

"Oh, my God... Emma..."

Will's hands grabbed her wrists quickly, skimming the place. Her skin and her clothes were stained with dried blood.

She had got a bit of courage, but not enough.

She moaned when the disinfectant covered the cut. Her weak attempts of fighting were brought down by his strong hold. He put two layers of gauze around her wrist. She didn't complaint again. She was dizzy.

A cold glass leaned on her lips and the juice slid in her mouth. She swallowed it with obedience. Four spoons of sugar were playing and scratching her teeth inside her mouth.

"Can you walk?"

The lack of answer was enough for him. Her body slipped a little more against the cold wall. Her hair disturbed on her face. Her eyelids were heavy.

Will picked her up and she placed her legs around his waist as he showed her. When she put her arms around her neck and felt carried, she let her head fell in the space where his shoulder and his neck met. His male scent enveloped her. She closed her eyes and whimper, allowing her sobs to begin.

* * *

><p>The soft bed welcomed her as human contact was lost. Will covered her with the blanket and then, he moved her hair off her face to caress her forehead. Those were the only things she remembered when she woke up a few hours later.<p>

She didn't move for a while. Her mind was in blank but she couldn't sleep. She wasn't in the mood to get up and follow the sound of a football match coming from the living-room. She'd have liked being able to disappear, turn into air and let the wind take her to a very far place. Everything would be better that now.

She opened her eyes and watched the white wood of her night table. She knew every strip by heart, but it still looked interesting for her.

Quiet steps approached and by the corner of her eye, she saw Will appearing. The mattress sank with his weight when he sat by her side, making her roll a little closer to him.

"Fine" she answered when he asked her how she was feeling. She also told him she wasn't hungry.

Her arm hurt like hell when she tried sitting up to show him she was ok, although she wasn't. But there were two arms and she was glad she only hurt one of them.

Will looked right at her eyes, though she avoided him. She wasn't able to look at him but he forced her, taking her chin and lifting her head to meet her gaze.

"I'm so ashamed", she covered her face and sobbed. Tears rolled down her cheeks, showing him how weak she was.

Will's hands were dancing around her body, wanting to hold but never touching. It was her who leaned on him looking for the wished comfort.

Since the day they met, she had desired nothing but his protection. Now she finally got it, she didn't like the situation at all.

"Calm down...", he whispered against her ginger hair. It was necessary him to repeat that some more time until her sobs stopped and she dared to look up, after had cleaned her tears. "Are you going to be honest if I ask you why do you do that for?"

Emma shook her head. She didn't stop wondering if he had discovered her hurt legs. It seemed like he didn't. One less thing to explain.

She felt like a little girl crying in her father's arms, and she hated it. That's why she suddenly pulled away and returned into the sheets, her back to him.

She removed his hand off her shoulder.

"Go".

His voice whispered on her ear, tickling, promising her a hot soup which she unsuccessfully tried to refuse.

She didn't want to discuss anymore.

* * *

><p>Dawn was breaking when the water started to wet her. Her dirty clothes had been hidden behind the rest.<p>

She rubbed and rubbed with vigor, hoping to be free of that layer of skin that she didn't want to wear anymore. She was already reddened, as her hair, but she didn't stop.

The peroxide was where it used to be. Nobody would tell it had been used by other person but her. Something as simple as a label looking at the wrong side was a difference for Emma.

Then, she remembered she had forgotten to take her pill last night. It'd be a step back and it wasn't good at all...

Her hand danced gracefully around the cuts of her leg, working on it like it usually did. She let her mind fly while her body took care of itself. It was great.

She dressed a clean nightwear, and its light smell made her feel safe.

Emma hated concentrated air. By opening door, the room started to air quickly.

"Sorry", Will hurried to look away and say he hadn't seen anything. His voice seemed still half asleep. But Emma didn't care about it, and let him come in.

The bandage from the last night was soaked and ready to be thrown away to be changed for a new one.

"I can do it by myself", she said when he offered his assistance. Ignoring her, Will softly took her arm. He was more carefully than her by far.

"It's just a scratch, but seeing a doctor would be a good idea"

It didn't seem good for her. She wasn't going anywhere to see anyone, she insisted. It would be a dark mark in her history.

So, they finally healed the wound. Will waited for her to put everything in its place before going to the kitchen and sit. There weren't any arguments in her mouth but he couldn't force her to tell what she didn't want to share with him.

"I'm not taking you to the hospital, Emma. I'm either talking about this with anyone if you don't want to, but I need you to promise me you will never, _ever_ do it again".

She kept silence. She hadn't said a word in the time he had been talking. She just nodded at him.

Will's little finger was up inviting her to join.

"I'm not five, Will" she replied. Even so, she put her right hand up and swore she won't do it again.

* * *

><p>She took one of the antidepressant with her morning coffee. The extra dose from some days ago would supply the yesterday´s lack.<p>

"What's that?", Will had asked.

"My pills", she left them over the table for him to check them. He read so carefully thus the words engraved in his mind. He wasn't a doctor, so he didn't understand what they were. But the true was that they were making her better. He had seen her progress... and now her no progress too.

She was playing with her cereals as if they would disappear so she wouldn't have to eat them.

"I haven't asked you yet why you´re back", she inquired plunging her Corn Flakes down.

"April got drunk just before the show started".

Reminding how the possibility of becoming a Broadway star had sunk wasn't Will's favorite story. It was the first time he talked about it with someone, besides his mates. This time it was him who looked away, ashamed.

Though she expressed her sorry, Emma actually was thankful for the blonde's alcohol problems.

"I'm coming back this afternoon", his expression was concerned while saying goodbye at the front door. One more time, he felt his arms longing to hold her tight... or any other thing. "Be a good girl", he had to be content just smiling her as walking away through the corridor.

* * *

><p><strong>NA:** Sorry the late upload T_T And thank aggie23 for help me.

Reviews are lovely ^^


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The apartment was quiet and lonely with only her presence. Time ran and she did nothing but sit there on her couch, watching the turned off TV; swimming in her own world, where only she was allowed to go in.

She was a good girl. Her gaze was fixed on a missing spot on the wall; thoughts were as weak as a string running through her mind, so weak they could break easily to let new ones take their place.

The doorbell rang two times before she stood up.

There he was again, with his clothes changed and a box of Popsicle.

The blanket he had used the night before was still perfectly folded in the same place Emma had told him to leave it: on the couch. She was supposed to put it away. She had a laundry to do, clothes to hang up, a house to clean.

She let him in while he opened the box and offered her an ice-cream. Orange or lemon. The others were saved inside the freezer and the wrappers joined in the litter.

"I don't use to eat these" she told him; there was a hockey match on TV which neither of them was paying attention to, "They make people fat and don't cool more than a shower" she explained to his surprised expression.

"You shouldn't worry about weight, Emma. You're pretty thin." He laughed lightheartedly.

Pretty thin. Was that... too much? At least, it was for Will. What mattered more than his opinion?

Terri was hot. April was hot. Holly was hot. She had never seen Shelby, but Emma was sure she was hot too. Instead, she was _pretty_ thin.

She promised herself she would fix the problem. Soon.

They ate the whole box, three each one. It was too pleasurable to become in to something normal.

"Go home, Will. Unpack your suitcase, go out and drink some beers with your friends, listen to Glee songs for next year. Don't worry about me. I promised you I'm not doing it again, so I won't. We'll see each other on September."

He just smiled and kissed her cheek before leaving.

Her eyes closed while the feeling of his lips remained on her skin, though he was gone. The urgency got over her. Layers of clothes were peeled off her body while she crossed the corridor. The curtains are closely-woven enough to hide her naked body from the neighbor's vision.

Her eyes judged herself in the full-length mirror. Her executioner.

She had never seen all of her... new incorporations before. Dark lines crossed the pale skin of her upper things. Large amount of freckles covered the rest of her skinny body.

Her hand travelled from her shoulder to her waist's curve, down her breast to her hip... Nobody had ever done to. Nobody would if she kept doing what she was doing. She was surprised of agreeing with them; there was no place on her body where a hand could close lovingly around. Will was right; she was pretty thin and she wanted to be better. Actually, she wanted to be perfect. And normal. Instead, her own vision turned out disgusting.

She turned around because she didn't want to look at herself anymore. The feeling of failure came up her throat making her look forward to do all the things she shouldn't.

##

The cell phone buzzed. The text read:

_Good night, Cinderella_

_Will_

The clock in the wall told her it was midnight.

Looking inside the cupboard, she found just a bottle of gin. Carl.

Her fingers rubbed across her eyes, trying to make her not to think about her ex-husband. It was enough for a day. She felt tired.

The transparent liquid reflected the yellowish light. The alcohol burned down her throat after one abundant gulp; before she could think it twice she was already coughing nonstop.

Her knuckles turned white when holding onto the wooden table tightly. With tearful eyes, she looked for something to calm herself down.

Little by little, she managed to reach the sink, and the rest of the alcohol traveled down the pipes while his friend the faucet filled a glass with clean water.

She drank desperately while coughing. She controlled her breathing and finally managed to cool down. On her way, she had slipped to end sitting on the floor.

At least now there was something she liked less than herself.

This was how the bottle went back to the darkest corner of the cupboard; forgotten and hated.

She didn't forget about her pill. With the box in front of her face the same thought of always ran through her mind. What would happen if she improved the dose on her own? One pill every 24 hours didn't do it for her. But, as usually, she did not dare.

_Cinderella... Yeah, you look like such a princess right now..._

Hidden in the dark, between the sheets, she removed the bandage with parsimony. Her fingers began to grope playfully on the surface, charting it in her mind before starting with the real party.

##

They were too much, so three cherry came back to the box with the rest of the small fruits that would go back to the fridge.

But then, they were too few. She needed to have a decent breakfast.

Her stomach groaned with hunger and the orange juice in front of her asked with muted shouts for a final decision. It lost its vitamins every second she wasted thinking about the right number of cherries to have that morning.

If there were many, she would eat more, which meant she would get fat. But she used to eat a lot of fruit and she was _pretty_ thin.

Despite the desperate cries of her stomach, she didn't desire for food. Eating more than she wanted would make her feel sick.

Why was everything so difficult?

Emma stood up abruptly and put the cherries on their place in the fridge.

There she was again, messing up another chance to get better.

She was so lonely... Just her with her sharp friend, shining with the light of the window in her bedroom. It was the one thing soothing her sorrow.

She wondered if the cuts would tear appart the feeling of oppression

##

He smiled in the threshold. He hadn't said he was coming because she would have rejected as she was doing it now. Being physically there allowed him to put his foot against the door or ignored her upset face when he walked by her.

He showed her the box of chocolate he had just bought at the Candy Store.

Emma took them to the fridge to prevent them from melting and remembered the last chocolate she had tasted. It was in that same room. If she looked at the bin, her imagination could draw the wrappers inside.

Hiding behind the cool opened door, she put herself together.

Will waited seated on the sofa while she put up the zipper of a striped dress two rooms away. The lines would fake the pounds she needed.

He smiled again and she was forced to copy him.

She checked her handbag in the front door. Will wanted to go out for a walk and despite she didn't feel like, she accepted. Yes's are always easier than no's since the last one need a lot of explanations that she refused to give.

The vision of her own arm when she was about to close the door reminded her something. When she came back from her bedroom, she was wearing a cardigan. It was hot outside, but it was necessary. Both of them knew so nobody say anything.

Emma never used elevators. They were small, dirty and made her claustrophobic. Reasons enough to choose the stairs.

Her heels didn't have a constant rhythm. She needed to stop to remember where she had to step next. Her head spun and her balance was lost.

She shut up as always, but this time it wasn't necessary; he noticed it.

"I'm fine" she claimed, going down the last three stairs firmly.

It was easier to walk on the flat ground of the parking lot to Will's car. It was just one foot after other, not high changes.

She blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision. She could barely see Will. Her whole body was covered by a layer of cool sweat. She wasn't as fine as she had told him; she could hardly walk. Her mind blocked and she fell.

##

She could have never get on her feet again if Will hadn't help her, carrying almost her whole body while her ghosted steps walked back to the apartment they had left five minutes ago. She didn't even notice the whirring off the elevator or passing the front door since she lost consciousness. When she regained it, Will had laid her on the sofa and watched her concerned.

She sat with his help while accusing herself for being such a weak person.

It was time for explanations. The first question was about her breakfast. Nothing; she just couldn't decide. Thinking about it, she didn't remember lunch either the dinner of the day before...

Trying to avoid the interrogation was impossible. So she found herself admitting that the last thing she had ingested was the couple of ice-cream the day before.

Such thing upset Will since it was more than a day ago.

She didn't even bother explaining herself. After all, she wasn't lying when saying she wasn't hungry, just forgot.

Emma listened to him and closed her eyes while Will cooked something. An orange juice and a vegetable sandwich waited for her on the cafe table, next to a delicious chocolate from the new box.

"My diet isn't very good" she explained after a polite "thank you". He was barely hearing what she said, although his eyes never left her.

Tiring of being the principal topic, she asked about him. Specifically, about Broadway.

As he would be switched on, Will started talking about everything, explaining carefully the awful event occurred the opening night, while she ate in silence.

They still had a chance; he clarified, but not right now. Maybe in the future. They weren't bad at all.

The chocolate sweetened the story and having to eat it didn't seem so disgusting. They both just looked at each other.

Will murmured something about an idea and left, leaving the door open. She hadn't recovered from the sudden departure, when he came in again with a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and a couple of Cds from rehearsal in hand.

"Would you like to see something?"

The music started and Will sang his favorite scene. The cafe table had been moved next to the wall so there was more space for him. He had to play all the characters. Soon, he proved that he knew the complete script.

He was a really good performer and Emma cheered him from the couch, laughing with the fabulous private show. She couldn't take her eyes away from him. It was a pity what Broadway was missing... She knew how to appreciate what she was enjoying.

Will was panting when it ended; his bow was received with an applauses rain.

"You liked it?"

She nodded, unable to find the right words to express how captivate she was.

He came closer and rested one knee on the couch, next to her, and leaned forward while the hand that wasn't supporting his weight on the sit back landed on her waist just when their lips met.

That wasn't on the script. What did she have to do? She couldn't react. Even her breathing was dead.

She let him push her gently against the back of the couch; a silly gesture that made her dress rose, showing a bit more of her naked thigh.

Her eyes were opened wide when the kiss broke and he smiled with love. It would have made her heart melt like butter under the sun if she wasn't so scared.

With her hand on his chest, she pushed him away so she could get up. Emma pulled her skirt as low as she was able to, fast.

Will reacted quickly, but wrongly. He thought she was hiding from sex, how could blame him? It clearly looked like that.

"I know you are not ready yet. This is not what I'm looking for. I'm not Carl, Em; we aren't married either so I don't want you to worry about that"

While he explained himself, Emma kept walking back while she checked the length of her dress.

Her cheeks burned with his words. It was embarrassing freaking men out just because they thought they had overstepped a boundary of physical intimacy when there had barely got close to it.

"That wasn't what spoilt my marriage" she murmured with her head down, talking more to herself than to him. But he heard it and shut up in the middle of a sentence. He seemed dumbfounded.

"I thought... it was..." he finally said with confusion. She got her back to him, avoiding eye contact.

"Actually... Holly asked me if I was still in love with you."

"Are you?"

Will had come behind her. Now, the tips of his fingers caressed her arm up and down, slowly and gently. She could even felt his breath on the back of her neck.

All those sensations together made her tremble; she was glad her face was hidden. Her eyes were closed improved the sensation.

"I'm crazier than you imagine"

He turned her and, once again, they were face to face.

Emma was scared. Discussing her feelings wasn't something she enjoyed doing. She could do things she would regret later. If only she was like him, so self-confidence just as now...

He didn't care about her craziness, he said; but it was because he barely knew about them. She had so many occulted that no one would ever discover them. She only showed the one that was harder to hide.

"I do care."

Even so, he was still the person who knew more about her. He should have distanced from her.

That was why she was so attracted to him. Or maybe because she was attracted to him, she knew him that much. Reason she needed to protect herself from him. He was like a bacterium, it could heal her or it could kill her.

When the door closed she was still in the same position. Even without Will's presence in the apartment she felt uneasy. She was totally lost, not knowing where to step next.

Just after the vibration of her phone, she was able to react. Emma looked for it in the darkness of her handbag. The text read:

_I don't know if you're in love with me._

_Anyway, I do love you._

_Will_

That was more than she could handle.

Tears fought to go out and her cheeks became a wetland with wasted of makeup.

Feeling the way, she fell on the couch with success before every single muscle of her body stopped obeying.

She was overreacting. Emma didn't feel emotionally fine. Her hormones were rebel and it was difficult to control her change of humors. Inside, she was a tornado that couldn't stop.

Emma ended sliding down the couch to sit on the carpet, which hadn't been cleaned in a week. She shook and contracted as much as she could to get the minimum skin touching. Her head rested on the edge of the table.

The silver shine reached her eyes and tempted her like a little girl. She got the knife he had cut the sandwich with and observed it like it was the most beautiful thing she had never seen in her life. In that moment, it was for her while it buried the tip on the skin just above her knee.

A cry of fury was heard while the knife flew across the room and landed some yards away.

It wasn't the way to solve the problems! What would her mother think if she found out?

* * *

><p><em>NA: Let me know what you think about it. _I'm sorry it takes me so long. I really expect to upload the next sooner than this...__


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